


A Question of Science

by SportyScribe



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:35:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1259863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SportyScribe/pseuds/SportyScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard gets an offer he can't refuse...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ball

DI Richard Poole eyed the embossed invitation almost suspiciously. A lavish ball to commemorate Police Commissioner Selwyn Patterson’s many years of service would be a huge event for Saint Marie. But why oh why did he have to go?

He had started to tire of the excited chatter between his team over the past week, although he had to admit his curiosity had been piqued by what his Detective Sergeant, Camille Bordey, might be wearing.

She had been unusually coy about her outfit, and now here she was – leaning against his desk, the smell of her perfume distracting him from the legal papers he was reading.

“So, the boys have rented tuxedos, and I assume you must have one?”

She was teasing but genuinely curious.  She knew he had studied at the prestigious Cambridge University, but had seen very little evidence of his time there. She mocked him constantly about his addiction to his hopelessly impractical suits for this climate, but imagined he would look very dashing in a proper dinner suit.

He… just harrumphed back at her.

“Of course I have one, and yes, I will be wearing it… and NO I do not have a frilly dress shirt Dwayne,” cutting his officer dead before he could chip in with a mischievous comment.

At that moment, a shadow was cast across the office as the imposing bulk of Commissioner Patterson loomed in the doorway.

“Pity, inspector – I think frilly would work very well,” he smirked, enjoying his senior officer’s obvious apprehension at his arrival. “Relax team, I just wanted to stop by and invite you all to pre-event cocktails, at my expense, as a thank you for all your hard work this year. I have arranged for a car to collect Fidel, Juliet and Dwayne – now where should I direct my second car?  

Richard was floored for a moment – allowing Camille to jump in before he could engage his brain. “Richard can walk to ours and we can all leave from Maman’s house?” She turned, raising a questioning eyebrow at him, and he felt cornered.

“Well Maman and I can’t very well walk to your place in heels across the sand can we?” Richard just mutely nodded, wondering how quickly he could escape for a pot of tea.

* * *

 

He knew that in his day he had cut a dash in his dinner suit at Cambridge, but it had been a while since he had given it an airing. Middle-age had not been _that_ unkind to him, thankfully, and as he surveyed the finished article, he felt… well… actually excited about the evening!

It reminded him of the admiring looks handsome young undergrads had received while nonchalantly strolling the place on their way to college functions. Admittedly he was a long way past those years now, but set off for Catherine’s house feeling suitably resplendent.

He knocked at her door, before stepping back and half turning away to gaze up the road. The gasp made him turn around, to view Catherine taking in his appearance, if he was not mistaken, quite approvingly.

“Why, Richard, you look quite handsome,” she said, smiling. He debated whether to make a cutting quip about it obviously making a change, when he saw Camille walking down the stairs. His mouth dropped open, a reaction not missed by her mother.

“I know I’ve said this before, but you look… stunning!” Camille smiled at him, knowing that the sleek black number, cut low enough, and slit high enough to show off her figure without being obvious had made its mark.

The arrival of the limousine shook him out of his dumbfounded state. “Ladies – if you please?” He held the door open for Catherine and Camille before climbing into the back – as roomy as it was, the closeness between him and Camille was just intoxicating.

* * *

As they arrived, they saw Dwayne, who looked surprisingly dapper, along with Fidel and Juliet. Catherine caught Dwayne’s eye – who promptly offered his arm, and risked a cheeky look behind him.

As Fidel and Juliet followed the pair behind, Richard shyly extended his arm towards Camille – she smiled and rested her hand on his arm, as they walked in to meet the Commissioner and his wife.

“Welcome,” boomed the Commissioner, as he introduced his team, concluding with Richard and Camille.

“Well, of course it’s very nice of you to invite us and host this,” Richard began, but was cut short by the offer of a flute of champagne. _Well_ he thought, _when in Rome."_

The night had progressed well, the team on a table together, chatting and for the first time Richard felt at ease. Well of course it helped that he had walked in with a gorgeous woman on his arm, and the admiring glances of other men in the room had not escaped his eye.

But for some reason, Camille hadn’t seemed to notice all these other guys… and it was slowly dawning on him that she was giving him her full attention tonight.

Sure there had been a bit of teasing, perhaps a quick glare when he was tempted to launch into a bit of a history lesson, or disparage the French, but on the whole he was having… _fun_ tonight!

“So, Inspector – enjoying yourself this evening.” Richard looked up to see the Commissioner standing at his side - damn that man and his habit of appearing like a ninja! “Yes, yes, and again congratulations on your long service”

“Sergeant Bordey – Would you be so kind as to let me borrow Inspector Poole for just one short moment?” She caught Richard’s eye – he looked mildly panicked (his usual look whenever the Commissioner was close by).

She briefly gripped his hand under the table, hoping it was unnoticed and that it would reassure him. She watched as he followed the Commissioner outside, and then found herself approached by the local hospital doctor.

He was well known to the team, and actually highly regarded by Richard, but deep down she knew if he returned to find her chatting to him… well…

* * *

 

Out on the balcony, Richard regarded his boss warily, aware that he had drunk far too much alcohol to be _totally_ on his guard… but hey, what the hell! “There is something I need to ask you before I go on – and although I think I once knew the answer, I need you to confirm for me one thing.”

Richard could only nod, as he figured his voice emitting a mouse-like squeak probably would not convey gravitas at this time. “If you could stay here, but had free reign to construct and run a forensics lab for the region, would you consider the job?”

Richard opened his mouth, but thankfully no squeak came out.  In fact no sound came out at all.  So he slowly shut it again. “The Met have agreed to help us fund a facility but it will be manned by someone they can trust, and see it as part of growing an officer-exchange programme.

“They have been very impressed with the way in which your team has gotten around the logistical issues around always sending materials to Guadeloupe, and we think that combined with funding, and facilities at the university, we could do a better job here.”

“However, they want to send a young DI who has been following your work here closely out to work with us.” Richard suddenly felt a chill – oh my god, they were sending him home, sending a younger man out here.

He looked away, back into the room, only to see Camille talking with the local hospital doctor.  Ordinarily, he would talk this guy up to the heavens, but just now he was coming up with all kinds of imaginative ways to push him off the balcon…

“Inspector?  What would it take for you to stay?”

* * *

Richard had never been any good with his career negotiations – but then again he had never had to be.

He had achieved good results, admittedly by being quite set in his ways, but here he had grown to respect the team, and had enjoyed the accolades passed down every now and again by the commissioner.

He looked at the Commissioner then gazed back into the room. 

Dwayne was twirling Catherine extravagantly around the dance floor, Fidel was also proudly dancing with his wife, the two of them enjoying some time together.

His gaze fell on her – chatting away to the doctor, but suddenly, as if she could feel him looking at her, she looked up. The doctor was still chattering away, but she just gave him a reassuring smile, before turning her head back.

He’d never fought for anything – he’d never had to. He took a deep breath – and answered him.

* * *

 

Camille was enjoying chatting with Doctor Simpson – the guy was a friend to the station after all, but she was getting concerned about Richard. He’d caught her eye just now, and there was something in his face – she’d hoped she’d flashed him a reassuring smile – reassuring about what, well she wasn’t sure.

She excused herself, and headed towards the balcony, surprised to see the Commissioner patting Richard on the shoulder as he stepped back in.

“Commissioner – talking work tonight?”

“Well, my dear – it had to be done, I’m afraid”

Now she really was concerned – Richard was now on his feet, staring out towards the sea in the distance. “My speech is in ten minutes – try not to throw each other over the balcony” the Commissioner said, grinning.

She stepped out, shivering slightly in the cool night air, and perhaps in anticipation of… what?  Richard gave no indication he had heard her join him, so she gently placed her arm on his.

He started slightly – but gave her that shy smile that always made her heart skip. Richard noticed her shivering – “here, take my jacket.” They stood together for a few moments, neither really knowing what to say.

“So,” he started – looking down, across, anywhere but at her. “The Met want to send a DI who is a forensics expert to set up a new lab out here – it will be the focal point for the entire region, massive funding, continued exchanges – all good PR stuff…” his voice trailed off.

“Go on,” she said, her voice low, desperately trying to keep it from cracking.

“They have offered me a chance to train specifically in forensic sciences back in the UK, and … there is an offer of a promotion to DCI on the table.”

There it was. She looked at him incredulously – he was leaving her?


	2. The Balcony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brain and mouth sometimes don't engage for our Richard!

Richard gave her what he thought was a reassuring smile, yet as he looked down into Camille’s face, he saw her expression of incredulity turn to exasperation bordering on anger! He started rapidly processing what had just happened:

_Bombshell from Commissioner Patterson - CHECK_

_Nifty bit of negotiation skills from yours-truly - CHECK_

_Gentlemanly act even if it meant covering up these sublime silky-skinned shoulders and OH MY GOD the line of that dre… - CHECK_

_Told her the news…_  He was distracted by an irritated huff from Camille. He looked at her again – yep that was definitely a Poole-icide type look if ever he had seen one!

In his mind he said (soothingly, he hoped) “It’s all good – what’s wrong, aren’t you happy?” What actually came out of his mouth was a less reassuring, and exasperated “what???”

“You’re leaving! AGAIN! Why did you even bother coming back? Why did you take me out to dinner those times, why did you EVER give me a reason to think you wanted to stay, to be here, to be here _with me_?”

Richard physically had to shake himself – he wanted to replay his checklist again but knew he’d obviously missed something out… why on EARTH would she think he was not coming back?!

_CHECK, CHECK… CHECK… ohhhhh_

_Told her the news… ohhhh wait I didn’t actually SAY what happened…._

 “For heaven’s sake – it’s not like I’m going for ever – just for the Forensic Science course. It’s just it’s six months, back in Cambridge. I don’t understand why you’re so angry – I told Patterson I wanted to stay”

She took a deep breath – of course he’d missed that bit out… now how could she save face, because now his face was full of confusion – oh god now he thought she _didn’t_ want him!

They’d gone on a couple of dates since his return, once his luggage had made a re-appearance, and he brought more stuff with him. He was always so very gentlemanly but she felt they had made a little ground in terms of getting closer. He’d managed a couple of chaste kisses at the end of the evening AND no tie and jacket on one occasion.

She tempered her tone a little. “If you’d actually SAID that, then perhaps I wouldn’t have been so…”

“French?!” He really couldn’t help himself sometimes!

“No… surely you can see that the reason I get so annoyed is because…”

She was interrupted by the over-enthusiastic clanging of a gong signifying the Commissioner’s speech. She looked back at him “We still need to talk ok?” He nodded mutely. “Maybe walk me home after the speech?”

They headed back inside and stood a little way in from the balcony doors as Commissioner Patterson took the stage.

* * *

Camille wasn’t really listening to anything that the Commissioner said, but was trying to process what had just happened. So…

_Commissioner dropped a bombshell – CHECK_

_Richard wanted to stay and told him so? OK – well – CHECK I think._

_He gave me his jacket, and when his hand touched my shoulder I SOOO wanted him to... sorry where was I… CHECK_

_He’s going, but he’s coming back. I think._

She suddenly caught what the Commissioner was saying.

“And I am pleased to announce a personnel change for the better. Our Met Officer DI Richard Poole has been selected to head up a new iniative by the Met for better Commonwealth policing, and after a brief 6-month training sabbatical at his alma mater of Cambridge, he will be returning as DCI Poole of the newly created Saint Marie Commonwealth Division in partnership between the Met.

He will be reporting to me directly and will be making his transfer permanent, with secondment to the Met to keep those channels open. We will of course have a new Met-based DI joining us in the interim who will take up Poole’s role and will work with him when he returns.”

There was applause and Richard shifted uncomfortably at all the attention and the cheering coming from Dwayne and Fidel, when he felt Camille’s hand softly slide into his. Still wearing his jacket it went unnoticed but he knew that he’d made the right decision.

He squeezed her hand gently and she looked at him. “Is everything OK now?” he asked nervously.

“Yes – and you are walking me home straight after this,” she murmured in reply. “Right… and your, um… mother?”

“Oh she’ll be going back to her place – I meant to my apartment – I can pick up my stuff from hers at any time.”

“Right… “ adding mentally to his checklist – does she want me to stay?

“By the way, if you’re wondering if I expect you to be less gentlemanly this evening… the answer is very much yes.”

_CHECK_


	3. In anticipation of the walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard and his checklists again (see end for notes and thanks)

As the speech drew to a close, a sense of anxiety started to wash over Richard – he knew he would face a barrage of questions (not to mention he _really_ wanted his jacket back by the end of the night) but as he tried to replay the conversation with the Commissioner in his mind he wondered if he’d imagined it all.

The process of trying to leave the proceedings as nonchalantly as possible was probing to be an even bigger challenge. As they circulated saying their goodbyes, Richard was sure he saw knowing smiles – especially from Dwayne. Hmm perhaps he could task him with cleaning the Defender – with a cotton ear-bud!

And as for Catherine… oh lord what had he got himself into. Damn that champagne.

* * *

As they started to say their goodbyes, Camille noticed Richard getting quieter – the champagne had loosened his tongue – he had been funny, witty, and not  _that_ rude about the French, but now he looked pensive.

It was a constant conundrum for her – for every step forward she felt she was taking, they seemed to take two steps back. She found herself thinking about how their dates had come about.

The first time, was just after his case had been delivered to the station the day after he had returned and she, Fidel and Dwayne had giggled behind their screens while he gave the poor courier a total dressing down. She decided to drive him home but was surprised when he flipped the case up onto the bed, threw off his jacket and suggested they go get something to eat.

As she went to head to her mother’s bar, he caught her arm and suggested they drive across to the next town where they would be less known. The evening had been some work talk, but as the night wore on, he seemed to want to talk about how he had _felt_ when he returned home – how he realised how much he had moved on.

She was touched by how much he was opening up, but was totally taken aback when suddenly he yawned loudly, his eyes glazing.

“Richard – are you ok, or am I boring you?” this half said in amusement with a touch of pique.

“I think my body clock is upside down” he said, quite sleepily…

Camille really was not sure what to make of this – so she decided to take him home, although she couldn’t help noticing how much younger he looked when his face was relaxed, as he was dozing in the Defender on the way back to the shack.

She shook his shoulder to wake him when they arrived, and was stunned into shock when he smiled sleepily and gave her a kiss on the cheek, before getting out and walking into the shack.

* * *

The second date improved, in that he ditched the jacket AND tie, and god he looked so much better, but it was as though he had realised that his je-lagged state had lowered his defences, and that perhaps he had given away more of himself that he intended to.

He was a little more shy, and it took a great deal of effort (not to mention a couple of bottles of wine) to get him even close to loosening up.

“Oh, sometimes I wish you would just be permanently jet-lagged,” she said, half in exasperation.

“What do you mean?”

She considered what she was going to say carefully – she was trying to weigh up if she would scare him away if she said what was truly on her mind.

“It’s just that the other night, after your luggage arrived you seemed to be more relaxed but I realise now it was just you trying to keep yourself up to get back into Saint Marie time but….”

He looked at her, curiously – “But?”

“Well I liked it – I liked going out to dinner with you, I liked it was just you and me and not us just talking about the case over a beer at the shack – it was… nice.”

He smiled, but then frowned. “So this isn’t nice?”

“You were so much more relaxed – it’s like you are on your guard?”

He frowned – this was not his plan. Actually truth be told he wasn’t sure what the plan was. He found himself analysing what had happened:

_Went out, had a good evening and she let me give her a kiss – CHECK_

_Second date – AND I left my jacket and tie at home which is what she’s always on at me to do – CHECK_

“I’m sorry – I just… maybe we should go back then”

“No, Richard. I am not saying I want this to finish early – I just want… I wish…”

He felt miserable – somehow he had gone from her loving being with him to now.. what? In a fit of desperation he clutched her hand, the suddenness of the movement making her jump and causing curious looks from other diners. He dropped her hand as if it was hot.

“I just want to… do the “proper” dating thing – like the taking you out for dinner and paying for it and, oh I don’t know, the small talk and getting to know you stuff – you know the proper gentlemanly stuff.”

She allowed herself a smile. “Well I don’t expect you to do the small talk thing – but I do like hearing about your life before Saint Marie, what things drive you, finding out about YOU and spending time with YOU away from the office, away from the shack, even.

“But I am willing to take this as slow as you want, for you to be comfortable.

“I am not going to lie – I am so happy you came back, but you are right – we have jobs to do as well as relaxing after work. So for as many meals as you fancy going out for and chats you like is fine. It’s YOU I enjoy being with.”

He called for the bill, pondering what to do. They left the restaurant and drive back towards Honore in silence, but for once it wasn’t that uncomfortable silence whenever he had annoyed her, or a self-conscious silence when he couldn’t quite get round how he felt about her.

As they arrived, she turned to him: “Coffee? Oh er maybe tea?”

He thought about it, and nodded slightly.

As they walked up the stairs he knew what he wanted, but it felt too soon. _Oh for heaven sake Richard_ he told himself sternly, _you’ve been here two damn years_.

* * *

Despite wanting to get him back to how he was when they first went out, Camille knew she had to tread carefully. She considered what to do as she looked in the fridge – and settled for… coffee.

Keeping the conversation on firm ground – experiences they’d had of life in general, she waited until that frown subsided and he relaxed a little more – she didn’t make any moves towards him, she tried not to touch him in passing – he had to be comfortable around her before anything progressed – she knew that now.

* * *

He yawned, and then chuckled “Oh god there I go again – I am a total nightmare”

“No – but maybe you should go – take the Defender, come pick me up tomorrow?”

She walked him to the door, and as he opened it to leave, she felt herself take his hand before she knew what she was doing – it was her turn to drop it as though it was burning her.

He looked at her – part confused, partly with a sense of longing, as if he wished her hand was still entwined in his. He took a deep breath, took her hands in his and planted the quickest of kisses on her lips before shuffling out the door.

Almost in shock she watched him walk down the stairs. He looked back and smiled, sketching half a wave as he got in the Defender and drove away.

She backed into the apartment and closed the door – put her hands to her lips… it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to Willowsticks who made me realise I needed to have a visit from the exposition fairy


	4. The Apartment

As they started their walk back through the town, Richard sought her hand, somewhere deep in his tuxedo jacket. She smiled up at him as he marvelled how she could walk in those heels.

“So I guess we need to… erm… chat?”

He looked nervous. “It’s not as bad as all that, Richard – but yes, don’t you think we should?”

“I suppose…” he trailed off, looking down.

She smiled at him – “I bet you weren’t this bashful when you were at Cambridge?”

He chuckled at some of the memories – certainly enough to pique her interest.

“Oh, so there ARE some stories then?”

Richard contemplated the situation.

_Commissioner KNEW I wanted to stay and the sly old devil bloody well knew why – CHECK_

_She’s holding my hand, giving me a wicked smile and expects me NOT to be so gentlemanly – CHECK_

_I am STILL her boss for another six months at least, and am I reading the signs right? – DAMMIT_

He had not become aware that his pace had slowed, and now she was standing in front of him, hands resting on his arms, looking up.

“What is it? Please tell me, because one minute I think we are going somewhere, the next it’s like you are fighting with yourself, changing your mind – what do you WANT Richard?”

“I want you” he blurted out without really referring back to his checklists. He almost looked shocked at himself!

They were almost at her apartment, so she moved her hands back down to his, and then turned to walk towards the door, as he followed.

He could KILL his mind – it was arguing back and forth with itself. It’s not like the Commissioner did not know they were most likely going to get together, and had pretty much told him that with the change in reporting line, he had no issues with fraternisation, but for the next few months he was still Camille’s immediate superior.

Then there was the issue of the new DI who would be coming out to lead the RSMP side of things while he concentrated more on the new Commonwealth Branch of the National Crime Agency (the new body replacing SOCA). Would he make waves if he knew what Richard was planning to do with his DS? Richard almost physically shook himself – his mind had wandered again – dammit it wasn’t his fault, just LOOK at her!

Before he knew it though, they were at the apartment. Suddenly he felt nervous. It _had_ been quite a while and whilst he was sure it was probably like riding a bike, he felt that volunteering that particular analogy would get him flung off the top step, head first!

As she closed the door, Camille pondered how she would go about the rest of the evening. She was pretty certain of his reaction at the thought of the evening with her, and she sure as hell knew what she wanted, but how to get Richard from A to Z (for Z read bed) without him leaping feet first from the top step!

She made a beeline for the fridge – what the hell… she grabbed the bottle of champagne and with a practised hand opened it. Richard raised his eyebrows as she brought him a glass.

“Celebrating are we?”

“I think so… the recognition of your initiative for one thing, your impending promotion for another…” she sat opposite him, leaning just far enough forward for him to get a glimpse of silk lingerie. “Anything else you can think of?”

He took a measured sip of the champagne, and despite himself, let out a sigh.

“Well for starters, it’s not all me – we’re a damn good team, all of us, so any recognition should be for us all.

“But I guess that’s not what you meant was it?”

She nodded her agreement. “Tell me what the Commissioner said.”

“So the Commissioner asked me what it would take for me to stay,” he started. She opted to say nothing but rested her hand on his knee, her thumb making a gentle circle, causing his heart rate to jump around like a crazy cricket.

“And I told him… that I had to be out of your direct reporting line. I had absolutely no idea of his other plans – he must have been plotting this for ages the old so and so…”

She reached for his hands, but he still seemed a little distant.

“They’re going to send me to a fast-path Forensics course being run at Cambridge, and then when I come back, I will be all the other way around – I will report to the Commissioner and be seconded to the Met, but you will have a Met DI coming to take charge.”

She considered this – “OK, but that’s the day job taken care of… but what about after work. You will work with us sometimes, you will continue breaking new ground here… but what about… us?”

There – she had asked the question, and she half held her breath wondering if it had been too forward.

“So we know where we _could_ be in six months or so, but what do we do now?”

So that was it, he still felt obligated by duty.

“How about…” she started, as she lifted her hand to undo his bow tie, “we just take things slow. We just get used to being around each other” she held up her hand as he was about to butt in. Oh she knew him too well. “Not like work where we are around each other all the time – I mean like this, close.”

She leaned towards him, and gently kissed him on the lips tentatively at first unsure of the reaction she would get.

She needn’t have worried as she could feel him responding. Encouraged she loosened the tie and took his hands as she stood up. She led him into her bedroom – pleasantly surprised that he wasn’t blustering, or putting up a fight… or sitting mute like a rabbit in the headlines.

The turmoil that had been in his mind was rescinding, the champagne doing its magic again. As she slowly started to undo the buttons of his shirt he reached behind her, kissing her neckline softly as he felt her shudder and sigh. He found the zipper of the dress and slowly tugged it down, letting his thumb trail down her back.

She stepped out of the dress and the sight took his breath away, simple black silk lingerie against her smooth satin skin was almost driving him crazy, and he knew it was pretty obvious to both of them that he was very much aroused by proceedings. Forcing the nagging voice of his conscience, he let her trail her hands downwards towards his belt, watching wordlessly as his trousers fell away. He stumbled a little as he tried to kick off his shoes and step out of them, taking his hands away from her to complete Operation Discard-the-Damn-Socks.

When he freed himself, he could see she was lying on her side on the bed. Summoning the memories and skills of University-Poole, he lay next to her – stroking his fingers up and down her arms.

“Is this what you meant by comfortable?”

“It’s a start – you could just hold me tonight, if you prefer…” She really hoped he wouldn’t settle for that, but she was determined not to give in to her instinct.

“What I’d like…” he started, giving her a surer smile…. “involves a hell of a lot more than holding” as he pulled her closer.

* * *

She broke for air from a more passionate kiss, but pressed closer to him as she felt his hands caressing her back – they settled on the clasp of the strapless lingerie and with a practised flick of his fingers, he flicked the clasp open, encouraging it away from her breasts… but allowing himself a naughty chuckle.

“Richard WHERE did you learn that!?” she laughed. “Oh an old trick from university..”

“Any other tricks I should know about?”

He peeled the silk away from her, lowering his head to be able to nuzzle and lick around her breasts – she moaned softly and he added that to the list of things that were driving him wild.

It was his turn to moan as her hands travelled down his body, as she gently pushed him onto his back, slipping her hands under the waistband of his boxers, making him gasp involuntarily. She eyed him with the start of a wicked smile, as she slipped them off him.

Now this wouldn’t do – he felt it was time he evened up the score, moving her gently onto her back as hands stroked the silk of a brief pair of knickers. She sighed, willing him to get closer to her and as if he could sense her will, he started to tease the underwear away from her.

Shifting to let him take them off, she half wondered if this was making her seem quite wanton, but as she felt him stroking her again, those thoughts went out of the window as she reached for him again.

* * *

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Richard was trying not to remember awkward post University ball fumbles and his more adult ventures (well what few he had after leaving university) and focus on the job in hand, as it were… but he was aware that he could very much make a fool of himself if she carried on teasing him, so wondered if he dared try and be a little more dominant.

In between kissing and caressing, he paused, enough to make her stop and gaze at him… he smiled a little awkwardly, given the circumstances, but she could tell he wanted her, wanted this. Without a question needing to be asked, she let him go, allowing him to lower himself onto her as she wrapped her arms around him, her legs parting to let him know she wanted this too.

Almost with a chuckle of relief he eased into her, feeling her relax as he settled – he paused for a moment before starting to move, savouring the feeling of being inside her. Leaning down to kiss her again, he allowed himself to get wrapped up in the passion, feeling her respond and push back against him just spurred him on, both giving in to what they had wanted for so long.

He truly did not want it to end, but hearing her cry his name undid him completely, gasping as he felt her clenching around him. One thing was for sure – it certainly was the best he’d ever known – and he had to quickly stifle the quick doubt that he was most likely not the most experienced.

As he slipped from her and rolled away, she moved with him, staying in his arms… as both of them tried to regain their breath, and get their heart rates down.

He looked her mildly concerned: “Are you ok, you’re trembling?”

She smiled back at him, breathlessly: “oh yes, mind you so are you.”

He chuckled – “Well it has been a while – look I’m sorry if I was no…”

She shushed him “Richard stop – you think I would be laying here like this with you if I wasn’t happy?”

“Well no – I suppose not.”

He stretched out and ran his hands through her hair, smoothing it back away from her face. He looked thoughtful – she stroked his chest gently.

He could feel sleep tugging at him and wondered if that would ruin everything, but as if she could read his mind, she snuggled closer to him.

“Just hold me ‘til we sleep?”

He kissed the top of her forehead and nodded, leaning back and closing his eyes, holding her close to him.

_Read the signs right? CHECK._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was tempted to put two chapters together but still tweaking...


	5. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick one… ahem… as it were

He became aware of the light streaming in from outside and as he groaned while the effects of the champagne slapped him playfully around the head, he was aware of her stretching _very_ alluringly beside him.

She gave him a wicked smile – actually flushing a little as she recalled the night before. Sleeping a while after their first time, he became a lot bolder, embarking on a mission to kiss every inch of her until she had been compelled to mirror him before they collapsed again, breathless and giddy.

They had slept pretty soundly but she had loved the sensation of feeling him next to her, cuddling up to her, holding her.

Even now, half asleep she could see he was close to arousal and wickedly she moved to lie on top of him, which woke him up as he felt her press against him. Enjoying the sensation of her being in control, he lay back and let her sit astride him, with just mock protestations.

Camille could scarcely believe this was the same shy, reserved officer she’d fallen for over the last two years, not that she was complaining.

Lying breathlessly by his side, she was about to tell him how deliriously happy this was making her when her mobile phone chirped to life. She rolled away from him exposing her back that he could not resist planting a number of gentle kisses on as he reached around her to caress her breasts.

Until he heard the words: “Ahhh good morning Commissioner”

* * *

He sprang away from her, shock on his face although in fairness she looked pretty horrified as well!

“Ah Camille, good morning, I trust you are not feeling too bad after the champagne. I was wondering if I could speak to the Inspector?”

“You want to speak to Rich…. The Inspector? I could, ummm, pass on a message when I next see him?”

She shot Richard a look as he let out an involuntary squeak at the mention of his name.

“Well you could, Sergeant, but it really is probably just as quick to hand over the phone, as he was not picking up his”

She winced – of course his phone was in his jacket, which was on the chair in her kitchenette.

“Sorry” she mouthed as she handed the phone to him, literally hitting him with it as he tried to inch away.

“Ahhh Commissioner,” he said… his voice still a little squeaky if the truth be told. “What can I do for you?”

“Sorry to bring the awful nature of work in after such pleasantries last night – I trust you enjoyed the function?”

“Ahh yes yes, it was … ummm very enjoyable, but you mentioned… work”

Camille was trying lean and listen, which was distracting enough with her hair tickling his face, but really the sensation of those perfect breasts brushing against him was really not helping the situation.

“So you were saying?”

“Yes – looks interesting – what seems to be a murder – it is at the top of the island so it will be a bit of a drive. Fidel was on call and he is there processing the scene, and Dwayne is on his way to join him. I trust you and Sergeant Bordey can make your way there, once you have had time to… get home and change?”

“Umm yes” stumbled Richard.

“Good – well tell the team I will call in Monday for a briefing. Oh and Inspector – we will need to re-assess your living arrangements now in light of your move to head up a new division and the new DI coming to take your place. Until Monday then.”

Camille looked at him, half in amusement, half in concern as he really seemed to be having palpitations!

“Murder” he gasped – “need to change, we need to get up there.”

“Ok Richard breathe – we are going to get this a lot over the next few days. You think you can handle this?”

He calmed himself – “Yes… ok let’s go – we need to go to mine so I can change into something a little more, or well less formal” as he eyed his dress shirt on the floor.

She waited until the panic subsided in his eyes, kissed him to let him know things would be alright, as she headed to the shower.

She paused by the door.

“Well come on – we don’t have time for you to shower at yours too….”


	6. The Crime Scene

Stifling her giggles at Richard’s apparent coyness and wanting to get dressed in private while Camille waited on the veranda, she took herself off to give him a little privacy, as she contemplated the last 24 hours.

She wasn’t naïve enough to think it would all be plain sailing from here – they would have to face her mother, their colleagues, the Commissioner – she cringed a little at the call. She knew she could brazen it out, but was really not sure how Richard would cope.

Suddenly she felt a little cold in the morning sunshine. She had wanted this, wanted _him_ so much, she had forgotten that it would be _huge_ steps for him and now she was wondering if she was maybe pushing him too hard. God above, had she forced him into it?

“Ok – ready.”

He was standing there in his suit but no jacket, no tie and he was giving her that crooked little smile of his and a half shrug? She smiled.

“OK we need to be … ummm”

“Business-like? Yes I agree… Come on, we had better go.”

He wanted to give her a kiss but he knew where that would lead.

But in the Defender he suddenly grew pensive, and she noticed his brow crinkling. As they pulled up by the bike, she paused before opening the car door.

“Are you worried about what they will say?”

“Yes. A bit.”

“Look – they may tease and give us knowing looks, but Richard – deep down they will be pleased for us, pleased that we are happy.”

He nodded but still looked pensive. God this not kissing him lark was proving to be difficult.

She forced herself to open up the door and as they made their way up the hill, they both focussed on the task ahead. As they approached the two officers she could sense Richard bracing himself for the teasing, but… nothing.

“Ah Sir,” said Fidel as he looked up from taking photos. The victim is Elsa Maisey – local girl, looks as though she was brought up here alive, but was beaten and dumped here. Oh and sir? Dwayne is a friend of the family – he’s taking this pretty hard.”

He and Camille looked a little further to where Dwayne was looking around the scene. As if she could sense what he was thinking, Camille nodded at Richard and moved off towards Dwayne.

Richard bent to examine the victim for himself – the beating had been brutal – he felt a little shaken himself and he didn’t even know her. He looked up to see Camille patting Dwayne’s arm.

Dwayne shook his head and tried to keep his voice steady.

“She was just a baby – I knew her mum you know – we all ran as a pack, back in the day…”

“Any ideas yet who or why?”

“None – but I want to be the one to tell her mother – I owe her that much.”

Camille nodded. “I’ll come with you”

* * *

They headed back to the station once the preliminary processing had been done.

“I’ll go with Dwayne to see the family,” said Camille. Richard looked up and nodded, before clearing his throat – his team looking up expectantly.

“Um I just wanted to let you all know that even though I am moving to a new role, obviously I am still very much around, and umm as such, I have made some decisions about life here…”

Camille was just looking at him curiously, not sure where this was going, Fidel was looking at him patiently and Dwayne was still a little distracted.

“So – umm well, I suppose it was pretty obvious that I was walking Sergeant Bord… I mean Camille home and, well… “

By now Camille was regarding him half with amusement and half with real concern about what he might blurt out, Fidel was a little amused, and it was Dwayne who spoke first.

“Chief – it’s all good – you guys will be great together and I know you’re gonna be happy.”

Fidel chipped in: “It’s great – really but Sir – what do we call you when you are the new DCI of a different department?”

Richard smiled… “Thanks team… oh not that you’re my team member” he addressed Camille – she sauntered over and punched him lightly on the arm, as she grabbed the Defender keys to deliver the bad news with Dwayne.

Fidel carried on with the paperwork, but stopped suddenly – “Sir… have you… spoken to Catherine since last night?”

“Ummm no no not yet”

“Right …”

Richard looked up sharply. “You think it might be a problem?”

Fidel smiled “You walk home her only child, who she’s been desperate to marry off in the pursuit of grandchildren … no no I think it will be great!”

Richard sighed.

* * *

Catherine was busy putting out the lunchtime menus as she caught Selwyn Patterson sauntering by.

“Selwyn – thank you again for inviting us again, now tell me – have you seen my daughter today?”

“Ah – yes I had to pull her in to work a case – but I am sure ALL the team will call by soon…”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

At this point Celine Patterson breezed over – “Come on now Catherine – you saw Camille get her man” she smiled looking over to her old friend. “Don’t make my Selwyn break any vows of confidentiality” she laughed.

Selwyn considered one of his oldest friends – he saw Camille very much like his daughter, in fact Celine was her godmother. But his discussions about Richard’s reasons for staying were between him and the Inspector he had grown to respect.

He just winked at her – “I think there will be bumps in the road, but all in all, your girl will be happy.”

Catherine looked fondly at her two oldest friends. They had supported her when Marlon had first left her, she stood by her decision to move to St Lucia with him to make a go of a marriage they knew caused her nothing but pain and they took her in when she and her little girl came back home to settle.

“Ok Ok,” she said, throwing her hands in the air, as if in defeat. “But don’t expect me not to make his life…. Interesting,” she smirked – oh she could hardly wait until they came in now.


	7. Words and Houses

The day’s work passed by with no real issues – Dwayne and Camille returned from breaking the news and interviewing Elsa’s mother, as much as they could without distressing her further.

Fidel and Richard quickly and efficiently processed what they could and sent the rest off to Guadeloupe and Richard didn’t really stop to think when Camille said brightly, “OK it’s still our weekend – let’s call it a day and have a drink?”

Walking down to the bar he wondered if he should hold her hand, but he didn’t want to make her jump or startle her by grabbing it, but how to do it surreptitiously… By the time he finished his latest internal monologue he realised she had taken his hand.

Without realising it, they had slowed a little – Fidel and Dwayne were deep in conversation and didn’t notice as they moved through the bar to pick a table big enough for them all.

Richard paused to look at her again – marvelling at the last 24 hours of his life….

“CAMILLE…. VIEN ICI, MAINTENANT!”

Then again, that might just be his _last_ 24 hours.

* * *

Even Camille looked a little startled at the holler from Catherine behind the bar – she shot a look at Richard who looked pretty panicked himself.

“Camille – you don’t think she’s … _angry_ at us, well me.. for…”

“For WHAT? Leading me astray? Richard, please!”

“CAMILLE!”

She shot him a look, squared her shoulders and then marched into the kitchen with that sense of belligerence that made Richard crazy both in good and bad ways!

* * *

Camille figured she would just brazen whatever this was. Until she got into the kitchen where her mother faced her with a face of stone. Suddenly she felt like a little girl again.

“You want to tell me what happened last night?”

Camille opened her mouth, and then shut it again. She knew she used to tell her mother everything, but suddenly she didn’t want to. For now she wanted this to develop at its own pace.

“Well??”

“Maman – you know I’m a big girl – there are things you don’t need to know in my life.”

Catherine regarded her daughter – and knew she couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. She made sure she was well out of view of the main bar and roared with laughter. Camille just stared her in disbelief.

“You were kidding me, kidding us that you were mad?”

“Of course – my god do you think I didn’t want you to FINALLY get together? For two years you have grown to love him, and he came _back_ Camille. You think I didn’t see you holding hands at the function, or know about your dates?”

Camille just shook her head. “Don’t give him a hard time Maman. These are big steps for him, so let him find his way.”

Catherine carried on chuckling as she shooed Camille out the door. Richard looked over anxiously. “All ok?”

Camille just took his hand and gave it a squeeze but didn’t say anything as Catherine breezed out with the drinks. She smiled and chattered to Fidel and Dwayne and and kissed the top of Camille’s head before halting in front of Richard.

The conversation dwindled as the two stared at each other, even Camille was not quite sure what would happen next.

“Richard, a word please – in the kitchen,”Catherine commanded.

He nodded, as if struck dumb, even though Camille started to protest, only to be silenced by a look from her mother. Now she was confused – surely just now she said everything was ok – why that look?

Richard trailed behind Catherine as she flounced into the kitchen, and he braced himself for a French assault.

“Tell me honestly, Richard – what are your intentions with my girl?”

His mouth gaped… “Ummm well, I … “

_Where to start? What to say? Where’s an internal monologue and trusty checklist when you damn well need one?_

“Well?”

“I love her, Catherine,” he blurted out. It was Catherine’s turn for her jaw to drop. She never expected him to come out with that, certainly after only one sentence. She hadn’t even had to resort to any French!

Feeling a little bolder, he continued: “I know I am off for 6 months, but I would very much like your blessing – I came back to be with her, and when I come back again… and I WILL be coming back again, it will be for good.”

“My blessing, Richard??? For what, exactly,” she said secretly hoping she knew.

“For me to prove to Camille that she has made the right choice, and that I can be what she needs… “

“And….?” Catherine dared to push

“And that will do for now,” he said firmly. He knew they had a long path ahead of them, but he knew what he wanted.

She looked at him, before nodding. She contemplated throwing her arms around him, but she figured he had suffered enough, so she sent him out of the kitchen while she prepared his tea.

Catherine bent close to Richard as she placed his tea on the table and whispered something. Richard flushed but nodded his head replying in a low whisper back. Catherine stood back smiling with a small nod of the head before she bustled away.

Camille looked at him quizzically? “Never mind,” he said.

* * *

For the rest of the night Camille was desperate to find out what her mother said, and in a way Richard felt more emboldened now, knowing he knew something she didn’t. But as always his smugness didn’t last long as the shadow of the Commissioner came into view.

“Inspector, Sergeant – a word please?

They rose and followed the Commissioner to a table outside. “Sit, please” he said – gesturing at the table. Richard and Camille looked at each other and in an almost unconscious gesture, Richard held her chair out for her. Ordinarily she might have huffed at him but now she liked it! And the gesture did not go unnoticed by Patterson, who smiled indulgently at the pair.

“So – I am assuming that you have discussed Richard’s impending move?” – the pair looked at each other, not really sure how to answer.

Taking advantage of the silence, Patterson ploughed on. “The replacement DI is ready to come out next week, and as such, we will need to put him up and as you will be leaving shortly thereafter, we need to give some thought to your living arrangements.”

Richard felt a little panicked – he might moan about it but he liked his little shack, and with all this so new with Camille he loved the privacy that the beach shack would bring tonight, as opposed to some amused looks as he and Camille had driven from the apartment in the morning.

“Yes well completely understandable Sir, do you have any good suggestion for storage, or… err, a hotel,” started Richard, aware that he could move in with Camille but it was hardly going to be a long term location.

“Well I have an idea. When I was first starting out as a police officer, my wife and I bought a house near the beach,” Camille suddenly started in her seat, causing Richard to look up at her.

“Time has gone, we obviously moved to a bigger place, our kids have used the place from time to time and now we have had it completely renovated and it would make a suitable base for the new Detective Chief Inspector of the new Commonwealth Division – but of course you need to go take a look. And I have ensured that the stipend payment that will accompany your promotion and transfer will more than adequately cover the rent.”

Richard didn’t know what to say. He looked at Camille, who was smiling nostalgically. “When my mother and I returned from St Lucia, we lived there for a short time – it was split into two apartments and we lived downstairs.”

“We have now converted it to one house – so it might seem a little large… at first…” Selwyn smiled. He was a lot younger when he and his wife had taken over the property with a young family and would dearly love to see it as a family home again – but one step at a time. He had to get Richard to agree,

“Take a look,” he said, passing the keys over the table. “Let me know what you think over the next couple of days.”

* * *

Richard and Camille strolled down to the beach-front together – he felt much more at ease holding her hand now – like it felt natural. It was about as much of a PDA as he could manage for now, but felt quietly confident that it was a good start. They rounded the corner to see a walled garden and two storey house, freshly painted on the outside. Camille stopped at the gate.

“I remember coming here when we came back to St Marie. The Patterson’s kids were about my age, maybe a couple of years older and it’s really maybe the first place I remember living. We had the place downstairs and every day I would come out and look at the sea. Best memories as a little girl…” she trailed off, imagining herself as a young child again.

Richard opened the gate and they let themselves in the house, both stopping dead in the front room in wonder. With brand new air conditioning, airy windows and smart new furniture Richard immediately fell in love with it.

Feeling for Camille’s hand they went upstairs, where the Master bedroom and other smaller rooms were. There was room for an office downstairs and a light, large kitchen – It was a perfect home. Here, they would have almost the same privacy away from the main town and set apart from other houses in the vicinity.

Camille couldn’t help herself – wondering what the house would be like a few years into the future… would she be chasing children out of the rooms to get ready for school, much as her mother had done many years before.

“I love it… but…”

Camille looked at him, confused – what could he possibly not like?

“I suppose I ought to ask you, would you want to give up the apartment and, you know.. maybe… well I suppose look after the place when I am in England and then, well…mmmph”

She kissed him, to stop him talking…

_Stayed last night – check_

_She didn’t seem repulsed by waking up next to me – check_

_Half asked her to live with me – mmmph_

She was kissing him again, this time to get his attention!

“I take that as a yes to living together then” he said, when they finally broke for air. “I suppose I’d better grovel to the guys to help us move then” he grinned. “Is your mother going to freak out at the idea of her only child living in sin?”

She laughed – “Please. She’ll be at the front of the queue to help us move in!”

She leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder as they took in where they would be living.

“Are you worried this is going too fast?” she murmured.

“No – I just wished I’d done this sooner… “ He realised that in a matter of weeks he would be heading back to England again, and was already beginning to dread how that farewell would go. He took her hand and they locked up and strolled back to the bar. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as they saw out the rest of the evening before they headed back to the shack.

Camille seemed perfectly at home despite it being the first time they were staying there together. He was still marvelling at the wonder of it all when he realised that she was beckoning him over to the bed. He didn’t need a second invitation… or a checklist this time.

 

 

 


	8. Moving Day(s)

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity for Richard. He had to call his parents to let them know his details of when he was coming back, but more importantly that he was moving. Bizarrely his father seemed more excited about the fact that he was moving into newer quarters than anything else, but his mother of course wanted to know all about how things were going with Camille.

Richard (being Richard) had not really gone into much detail about his feelings (oh that word!) about her when he snuck in a fleeting visit back home after accompanying a prisoner back to the UK. But he did not miss their shared looks as he showed them some pictures of the team, and his mother teased him about finally putting a VERY attractive face to the name he so often mentioned in his emails.

For once his father seemed genuinely pleased about his promotion – maybe it had something to do with being the first ever Met officer in this newly created role. Whatever happened to him, who ever came after him, he would always be the first DCI of the Commonwealth Division. Oh well, so long as his father was happy, Richard supposed all would be ok when he shared his plans to make his home Saint Marie.

Mind you, at this rate Camille might dismember him with his trusty boy-scouts hunting knife and put him in the packing case that had housed Lucy, his “precision optical instrument”…

“For God’s SAKE Richard, we can put it in the Defender and drive it to the house, you could even WALK with it in your arms, you do NOT need to put it in the case!” she yelled.

“I am NOT walking across sandy roads – and she is not an “it,” Lucy is a preci…”

“It is SO important to your future that you DON’T finish that sentence.”

Catherine, Fidel and Dwayne listened from outside the shack with a mixture of amusement and concern.

“You think someone should go in and sort them out? We will NEVER even get the first things over to the house at this rate?” said Fidel, nervously.

Catherine shrugged and walked in to the house.

“Have you two quite finished? It’s just that we’re having a house-moving party for you at the bar and we haven’t managed to get ONE suitcase of yours in the car yet.”

The pair looked like sheepish children caught misbehaving.

“Ok Maman – let’s get the easy stuff over to the house. Richard can figure out how he gets the OTHER woman in his life over the house himself,” retorted Camille as she grabbed a box with kitchen equipment and headed out the door without a second glance.

Richard sighed and looked at Catherine. “It’s just it’s a pre…” She quelled him with a look.

“Richard, my dear – this is a big thing for her … you know? You realise?” Catherine said, now really wondering whether this was indeed the right thing for either of them.

“Leave Lucy for now, and let’s start loading the simple stuff into the Defender so that the first stuff can get over and then come back for it?”

He looked at Catherine who was regarding him with some amusement, and then picked up his suitcase and headed out to the Defender.

* * *

Although Richard had brought back more clothes and some things (like Lucy) had been shipped from home, there was really not too much to be brought across – there was more to be brought over from Camille’s apartment, although Richard knew better than to point out this fact after they were still bickering over a single trip for the now dismantled and packed away Lucy.

Even Richard knew when to quit – after haranguing poor Fidel and Dwayne as the three of them manoeuvred the case up the stairs to the little attic room and balcony where she would now live, the prospect of spending his evening lovingly unpacking her would have to wait.

Catherine never needed a reason to throw a party but “Moving Day” seemed to be a good enough title.

Richard and Camille seemed to put all the arguing of the day behind them as they closed the gate and strolled into town. Catherine just hoped that he wouldn’t head to the attic room when they got home again!

* * *

After a fun evening of reminiscing about all the good times the team had at the shack, Richard was feeling quite nostalgic for the fact he wouldn’t have a tree growing through his front room.

“Well perhaps I can give you one in a plant pot as a housewarming present,” boomed a voice from the doorway as Commissioner Selwyn Patterson appeared.

As always, Richard seemed to be flummoxed in the presence of the big man, so it fell to Catherine to offer the Commissioner a drink and offer him a seat, while Richard continued his more than passable impersonation of a statue.

“The new DI is flying out, as we speak. He will arrive tomorrow and will have this weekend to get over his jet-lag – I was wondering if I could prevail upon you, Inspector, to accompany me to the airport to meet his flight.”

“Look on the bright side chief,” Dwayne piped up from across the table, “He might have even less luck with luggage than you!”

Amidst the laughter, Richard nodded, catching Camille’s eye as she looked a little rueful - she had her own plans for christening the house.

Never mind – she would make the most of the evening, if she had to give him up in the morning.

* * *

As the alarm went off, Richard woke with a start and for a fraction of a second had a little panic. He was in a strange bed, albeit with the wonderful sight of a naked Camille lying next to him, but no chickens, no tree… and then he realised where he was, stretching out with a little smile.

Feeling him stirring beside her, Camille inched closer, stroking her hand gently across his chest. Richard smiled a little more as her hand moved purposefully down as he brought his hand up to start caressing her arm, working up before switching its allegiance to her breast. She rolled back gently and he followed…. And then the snooze function on his phone went off, killing the mood quite thoroughly.

He groaned in annoyance – god was this how it was going to be? Obligation to duty was not a new thing for Richard, but waking up next to a gorgeous and sexy woman who, for reasons that still eluded that sharp brain of his, wanted to spend her time naked in bed (and a few other places) with him.

That same beautiful woman was looking at him now with some amusement.

“Go on – get up – you are no use to me if you are fretting about being late for the Commissioner – go have a shower and I will get you some tea.”

“You’re a marvel – have I told you that?”

“A few times, normally after we have made love. A lot!”

She laughed as she swung herself elegantly out of bed, and sauntered to the door, collecting a small robe that barely covered her leaving Richard imagining what it would be like to undo the robe’s tie, pull the robe aside and….

“Richard seriously, get up. You don’t want to be late for the Commissioner, or my new boss!”

* * *

It felt oddly comfortable to be grabbing a slice of toast and having his tea with Camille pottering around, and he could put up with feeling ever so slightly nagged as she hurried him out the door for him to meet the Commissioner’s car.

Selwyn Patterson watched from behind the wheel as Richard self-consciously paused to wave before hurrying down the path to the car.

“All settled in then, Inspector?”

“Um yes, thank you. You know a few boxes to unpack of Camille’s but I dare say she’ll have everything squared away by the time we get back. Umm what time ARE we expected back?

“Well I suggest we take the new Inspector to the shack, and then maybe arrange to collect him for welcome drinks and a meal at Catherine’s – she is organising her usual Sunday meal for the team, not too late, just in case Inspector Goodman is feeling a little jet lagged – does that sound like a plan?

Richard just nodded.

As the people coming in off the flight started to filter through, Richard’s mind started wondering, remembering what it had felt like to meet the Commissioner for the first time, the sweltering heat, the annoyance of his lost luggage – he quite missed the fact that a tall, gangly individual and edged up to them, the Commissioner being resplendent in his uniform, while Richard had opted for his suit trousers and a crisp shirt but no tie and jacket – Camille had been QUITE firm about that.

In rumpled lined, Humphrey Goodman took in the scene – the portly but impressively bearing Commissioner and there was something about the outgoing Inspector – he looked wistful but welcoming, in a harried kind of way. Humphrey held out his hand to introduce himself.

“Hello yes, well I’m Humphrey Goodman, of course”

“Well of course,” said the Commissioner with some amusement, before turning to Richard. “And may I introduce soon to be Detective CHIEF Inspector Richard Poole”

Richard extended his hand.

* * *

“So what’s he like?” – Camille had not let up since he got home wanting to know every little detail – was he tall, young, how young – in truth Richard was a little worried she’d fall madly in love with gangly being and forget all about him!

Just as quickly as he had the thought he banished it – but suddenly there was (quite literally) a new sheriff in town, and he couldn’t help but put his nose out of joint.

He made his excuses and wandered up to the attic room where he had set up Lucy. Feeling slightly stupid for thinking it, he consoled himself that she would never get all excited over a new copper in town.

Mooching about upstairs he failed to hear Camille creeping quietly into the room with a fresh cup of tea.

“Hey – are you worried I will run off with the new guy,” she asked shyly?

“No.” he said, pretty unconvincingly.

She smiled and set the cup down – he had adopted the large wicker chair that used to be in the shack and was sulking, reading a book and she sat on the arm and kissed the top of his head.

“You know – it’s just because I want to work well with him, and you know – make you proud.”

Richard looked at her in surprise “Proud? I don’t….”

“We worked so well together, and now – well we won’t see each other every day at work… and I just want to get along with the guy…”

Richard felt vaguely stupid for feeling grumpy but he couldn’t help it. He opted not to say anything, prompting Camille to try and snuggle closer in the armchair. There was a benefit to this not-knowing-the-right-thing-to-say lark!

He put his arms around her and buried his face in her neck-line, god he loved that murmur when he found _just_ the sensitive spot. She pulled away a little so she could kiss him, deeply, thoroughly.

“What time is Sunday dinner at your mum’s” he murmured, trying to hold on to all of her at once as she shifted position to sit astride him in the chair.

“More to the point, you didn’t tell DI Goodman to come here did you?” she said, gasping as his hands removed her top, caressing her and drawing her to him

“No… we’ll go get him,” he mumbled as his hands removed her bra leaving him free to kiss and lick her breasts, now so temptingly in front of him, as Lucy was well and truly forgotten for the afternoon.

* * *

Humphrey had tried to take in all the details the Commissioner had bombarded him with on the drive to this shack on the beach. Yeah – Sally will NOT want to stay here. He supposed he would have to get to work finding a place. Maybe he could ask Poole some house-hunting advice.

It had been interesting meeting him – the grapevine seemed to say that he was unliked and unpopular, but he was sure he detected a fair bit of almost fatherly pride going on with the Commissioner and Poole. Hardly surprising, he had reduced the crime rate pretty convincingly and he was being made a DCI AND heading up the new division.

Humphrey winced. Sally had hinted that he was aiming too low – after all why hadn’t they offered HIM something like that – he’d been a DI for ages. Anyway – hopefully when she arrives in a week or so it will be a fresh new start, he thought as he tried to shake off the tiredness from the trip.

He wandered out onto the veranda, curious as to the small bowl of water and what appeared to be mashed up fruit which was attracting all manner of bugs.

“Ahh – that’s for Harry – the lizard,” he heard a woman’s voice call out. A vision of island beauty was making her way towards the shack… Humphrey stepped back involuntarily, catching the bowls with his foot, spilling the contents across the boards.

“Dammit” he growled to himself.

The woman bounded up the steps and he was speechless…

“Oh don’t worry – We can sort out another bowl – there should be some mango in the fruit bowl in the kitchen.”

He stared at her quite unable to move… until she snap-pointed back into the shack.

“Oh right, yes – I saw some stuff – ok ummm let me go … ummmm”

As he walked back through the shack, his mind was racing – who was this woman, and why did she move around the place like she’d always been there.

“Hello – you all set?”

Humphrey came out to see Poole striding up to the veranda.

“Hi again – can I introduce you to your Detective Sergeant – Camille Bordey.” Humphrey was struck dumb. No, Sally would not be happy at all. He stumbled forward, his shoes now sticky with kicked over mango as he extended his hand.

“Pleasure, oh or should that be enchanté”

Camille smiled “See Richard, a little French goes a long way.” Richard gave her that half smile she loved – she imagined there might be some French phrases coming her way tonight then in that case.

“Come on then – we need to head over to the bar, Catherine’s Sunday dinners are now legendary, and you’ll get to meet the rest of the team – that is if you’re ready?”

Humphrey was trying to kick off sticky mango from his shoes. “Yes, all fine – let’s go.”

* * *

It did not go unnoticed that this vision of loveliness, well his new DS was holding hands with DI Poole. And Humphrey was a little taken aback when the owner of the bar threw her arms around Bordey in a massive embrace and even gave Poole a kiss. They were a friendly lot here!

Of course during the meal he finally figured out that Poole and Bordey had some kind of thing going, and Patterson didn’t seem to mind, and the bar owner was her mother, but he wasn’t quite sure who else was with who. One of his officers to be, Myers seemed to be all things to everyone, judging from the women he was approaching all night. He quite liked the quiet and thoughtful Best though – newly minted sergeant, so that was good to know.

“So when is your wife arriving?” Humphrey roused himself as he realised that Poole was talking to him. He guessed he ought to call him sir? “Ummm she’s flying out in a week or so. She’s sorting out our house in the UK – we’re renting it while we’re here, umm sir?”

“Oh I think out of hours, you can probably call me Richard.”

Humphrey was struggling to stay awake and Richard ad Camille offered to walk him back. As they saw him safely in to the shack, he stood on the decking steps and watched them walk up the road until they disappeared into a house up in the distance. _Lucky devil_ Humphrey thought.

He dialled his home number and was surprised to get the answering machine. He left a quick message for Sally – hopefully his talking to answer phone wouldn’t be loud enough to wake her – she’d hate that, he thought to himself.

 

 


	9. Reflection

To say Richard was having trouble letting go was a bit of an understatement. Bad enough that he had to put all his stuff away into storage and clear out his desk so that DI Goodman could have a proper handover (not to mention a fair chance of stepping into his shoes) but god the man was disorganized.

 Richard spent a lot of time to-ing and fro-ing from Government House, which made it a little less disturbing to him, but nevertheless, he felt like he was being forgotten.

Camille had great fun teasing him about it, in the early days at least, but when his days travelling over to Guadeloupe for briefings, and arriving late at La Kaz started impinging on her new-found state of bliss, suddenly it was not as fun anymore.

* * *

Catherine regarded her daughter as she laughed and joked with the team, but every so often would lean back as the next ferry arrived from Guadeloupe where Richard had gone for yet another meeting.

With no sign of Richard ambling along the quay, Catherine would note how her face would fall, and she brought her chair back to the table where the team – her new team – would be raucously discussing the day.

Catherine watched her as she rose to go grab a new round of beers from the bar, following her.

“So the reality is not quite the same as the fantasy, chére?”

Camille looked up sharply, but her features softened when she saw her mother looking at her wistfully.

“I know he has a lot of work to do, and he wants to do a really good job,but…”

“But you thought it would be just a lot of bed-time and not much else?”

 “ Maman!”

 Catherine smiled but said nothing.

The horn from the ferry announced the last arrival, and Camille couldn’t help herself as she watched. It did not go unnoticed to Catherine when Camille spied Richard, but her joy turned to confusion as he headed down the road towards the house and not along the beach to the bar.

 

Waving goodbye to her mother, as Catherine pressed a couple of bowls of food for Camille to take home with her, she ran back towards the house, but stopped dead when she got there – all the lights were off. She was almost on the point of searching around the place when she noticed the lamp going on in the attic room where Lucy resided.

* * *

Walking quietly into the house, Camille set the bowls down and made her way to the attic – he was sat there quietly which an opened bottle of scotch on the table, and a glass in his hand. A chill ran through her.

“Richard?”

He didn’t turn around… now she felt really scared. She walked round to face him and to her horror he sat with tears streaming down his face.

“Oh My god, Richard – what’s happened,” she cried reaching to put her arms around him. He didn’t react – he didn’t push her away which she half expected. She released him, crouching down beside him, and gently removing the glass from his hand.

He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time, seeming surprised to see her there, and equally surprised to find himself wiping tears away.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I didn’t mean to drag you away…. I mean go back to the bar if you like.”

“Richard – I’m not leaving you, please tell me what’s happened.

“I got a message, just as I was leaving,” he started. “A recruit I mentored when I had just joined CID. She was amazing.”

Camille didn’t know how to react, so opted to say nothing but just sat by him stroking his arm.

“She was diagnosed with this condition, it totally killed her immune system. She was on medication since she was a teen but she was set on joining the force. She went to Uni, she worked hard on her fitness and eventually she was accepted into the Met – she always said that when she passed out from Hendon, it was the proudest day of her life.

“We stayed in touch after she went to join another force so that she could marry a colleague but then you know I went to Croydon, and then here….”

His voice trailed off as his eyes welled up again.

“The medication she’d taken…I guess there was always a risk that it would leave her susceptible to liver cancer. She …. Was … she was just 30…”

He couldn’t go on and all Camille could do was hold him, until he slowly brought his hands up to hers.

He carried on: “She knew.. I think she knew that this was a likely outcome, and a few months ago she casually dropped me a line wanting to know if I’d sponsor her for something she called a bucket list? A whole load of wild things she wanted to do – swim with great white sharks, parachute jump, stuff for charity.

“I’d sponsor her of course – but never realized that she knew her time was limited. Eventually the requests stopped and then her mother called today – to tell me that she’d died. It was like a kick in the gut. I just couldn’t face everyone tonight.”

“Of course,” she soothed, kissing him softly on the forehead. They sat in silence for a while before she got up.

“I’m going to head to bed. Come down when you’re ready?” she whispered, kissing the top of his head before letting go of his hand and heading downstairs. He sat where he was for a few moments, before taking one last look through Lucy, training her in on a bright star.

“Sleep tight,” he whispered as he headed down, smiling as he clambered into bed beside Camille who was clad in his pajama jacket. She snuggled into him.

“Thanks for listening,” he murmured kissing her neck.

“It’s what I’m here for,” she whispered back, turning to look at him and realizing with an ache how much she would miss him when he was gone. She kissed him and snuggled closer, as they fell asleep together.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few months ago, I sadly had to report on the death of a British player, gone far too soon. She retweeted one of the first features I wrote on her, where I said she'd outlast us all. How I wished that could have been true. Today would have been her 31st birthday so it seemed fitting to publish this today... normal romantic fluff to follow I promise after the US Open!


	10. The Certainty of Love...

Richard had come to love that early part of the morning. The sun which tormented him when he first arrived was now his early morning caress as the first dawn of light crept through the window. As he stretched he felt Camille stir by his side.

The last few days have been a maelstrom of emotions – just the kind of ground he feared to walk on! They had gone from passion, to tenderness to angry outbursts and then right back to the beginning again!

All he knew was today was the day he had to leave for six months. And he had no idea how he would get through the morning.

* * *

 

Ordinarily Camille loved the morning – the feeling of warmth as the sun came through the window, the slow waking, made all the better for waking up next to Richard. But as she sensed the tendrils of light on her face, she wanted to burrow deep into the bed and never open her eyes.

She knew she had to let him go today, for six months, and in her heart of hearts she knew he would come back to her, but there was a nagging voice in her mind repeating the words she’d said to him, not that long ago – about how he’d have a pint in his favourite pub and would want to stay there.

All she knew was today was the day she had to let him go for six months. And she had no idea how she would get through the morning.

* * *

Richard glanced over to her – she looked asleep. He kissed her softly on the forehead before swinging his legs out of bed… the temptation to wake her for one last, ecologically motivated (of course) sharing of a shower was tempting… but he really could not miss this flight.

She felt him leave the bed, and idly thought of surprising him in the shower, but knew that it would hurt her even more to have him go after that. She eased herself out of bed, and headed downstairs to make him his tea, marvelling at how she had become such a willing model of domesticity.

That was it though. She _wanted_ to be making him tea in the morning, and pottering around the house together. She had come to think of them as almost an old married couple – without the married bit. She dared to hope that was where his thinking was going, but worried that it was her mother’s influence.

Standing in the shower, Richard reflected on his plan, well such as it was. He knew that first on his visit list was his parents – thankfully his dad had volunteered to come get him from the airport, so now all he had to do was rehearse what he needed to say to them. He hoped that his mother would agree to his request, and that his father wouldn’t fix him with that disapproving look.

He could hear her pottering about and chuckled to himself at the thought of Camille slotting into the role of domestic goddess, honestly they were turning into an old married couple, he thought. Except he still had to negotiate that hurdle.

* * *

Small talk, he _hated_ small talk, but he fretted that if he didn’t just blether about the packing, and whether or not Heathrow was better than Saint Marie in the suitcase stakes, he was terrified he’d blurt out what he wanted to, and it was just not how he planned. And he liked his plans.

* * *

Small talk, she knew he _hated_ small talk but she didn’t trust herself to either howl like a lovelorn teenager, or just holler at him to marry her already – god WHERE had that come from. But that’s what she wanted, she knew that. But how to get him to agree? She’d need a plan. Well she had six months to come up with one.

* * *

The journey to the airport was like one of impending doom. She had gone completely silent, worried that if she opened her mouth it would be filled with racking sobs, hell that time would come soon enough, so instead she listened to him muttering away to himself and tried to forget how long it would be before she head him huffing and muttering again.

* * *

He could tell she was purposefully silent but he couldn’t help himself, as he just muttered about all kinds of irrelevancies to fill the silence that he once so desperately craved. For the next six months he would be on his own and probably back to being a bit of a loner, and he just needed to remember what it was like to _have_ someone to mutter to.

* * *

Of all the things she was remembering as they stood to say their goodbyes as his flight started boarding was one of their last rows was about his clinical adherence to scientific method:

“GOD with you EVERYTHING is a question of science – why have you NO feelings???!”

Like with all things in their closing weeks, it led to an enthusiastic reconciliation, but it troubled her that she’d thrown all that at time. Why would he come back to someone who questioned the very core that made him… him?

* * *

He pulled her close as the tears now would not stop. He didn’t want the last image of her to be crying over his departure, and while he tried to soothe her, all the while attempting NOT to say completely the wrong thing, he remembered one of her retorts:

“GOD with you EVERYTHING is a question of science – why have you NO feelings???!”

He pulled away from her, wiping her tears away as he tried to find the words he wanted to say.

“That row, the other day… no let me finish” he started, as she tried to interrupt him.

“I know I’m a curmudgeonly, old so and so, stuck in my ways… yes even stuck in science.

“But I want you know – I’m going away to answer those Questions of science… yes.

“But I’m coming back to the certainty of love.”

* * *

 They looked at each other and for a fraction of a second Richard thought he’d said the wrong thing. Again.

Camille smiled back at him through her tears:  
“That might actually be THE most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me”

Richard smiled: “Well I was just aiming to stop you crying!”

She laughed – something she never thought possible that morning.

The last call came over the tannoy, prompting Richard to get in a quick last moan about why was a snotty message on a tannoy needed at an airport the size of a postage stamp.

He gave her one last kiss, and promised that he’d text her when he landed, that they’d skype. Camille tried not to let the tears start as he headed down the steps to the bus to take him to the plane. He looked up and sketched a last wave, and reluctantly as the bus drove off, she turned away.

* * *

She headed to the bar where Catherine just hugged her – no words were needed. Camille told her mother about the farewell, and couldn’t help but notice a wry look cross her mother’s face.

“What?”

“It’s nothing… well, no doubt you’ll find out in six months,” said Catherine before heading off to serve other customers, leaving Camille looking on quizzically. After all… she’d given her blessing AND one more piece of information that Richard asked her for…

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was how I WANTED Season 3 to start! Hopefully a bit more cheery than my opening attempts at fic.  
> S3 AU… and no icepicks (well not yet anyway!)


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